R'STALE―A DISAGREEABLE INTERRU

n he was suddenly checked by observing that there werepresent, not only Mr. Tupman and their stage-coach companion ofthe preceding day, but another stranger of equally singularappearance. It was a careworn-looking man, whose sallow face,and deeply-sunken eyes, were rendered still more striking thanNature had made them, by the straight black hair which hung inmatted disorder half-way down his face. His eyes were almostunnaturally bright and piercing; his cheek-bones were high andprominent; and his jaws were so long and lank, th

of our friend's here. We discoveredthis morning that our friend was connected with the theatre in thisplace, though he is not desirous to have it gen

vy business―noactor―strange man―all sorts of miseries―Dismal Jemmy, we callhim on the circuit.' Mr. Winkle and Mr. Snodgrass politelywelcomed the gentleman, elegan

e us by proceeding with wha

rning to Mr. Snodgrass, who had just taken out his note-book, said in a h

e question. 'Ah! poetry makes lifewhat light and music do the stage―strip the one of the falseemb

sir,' replied

nd admiring the silken dresses ofthe gaudy throng; to be behind them is to be the people who maketh

sunken eye of the dismalman rested on him

ller, 'like black-eyedSusan―all in the D

her glass before you

ick

d half of it, opened the rollof paper and proceeded, partly to read, and partly to relate, thefo

s nothing of the marvellous i

usually bestowed on the most ordinaryvicissitudes of human nature. I have thrown these few notestogether, because the subject of them was well known

ich, if he had been careful and prudent, he might havecontinued to receive for some years―not many; because thesemen either die early, or by unnaturally taxing their bodilyenergies, lose, prematurely, those physical powers on which alonethey can d

death itself, if he persevered in the same course; yet hedid persevere, and

of some heavy spectacleoccasions a new demand for their services. To this mode of life theman was compelled to resort; and taking the chair every night, atsome low theatrical house, at once put him in possession of a fewmore shillings weekly, and enabled him to gratify his oldpropensity. Even this resource shortly failed him; his irregularitieswere too g

d. He was dressed for the pantomimes in all the absurdity of aclown's costume. The spectral figures in the Dance of Death, themost frightful shapes that the ablest painter ever portrayed oncanvas, never presented an appearance half so ghastly. Hisbloated body and shrunken legs―their deformity enhanced ahundredfold by the fantastic dress―the glassy eyes, contrastingfearfully with the thick white paint with which the face wasbesmeared; the grotesquely-ornamented head, trembling withparalysis, and the long skinny h

was dangerously ill, and begging me, after theperformance, to see him at his lodgings in some street―I forgetthe name of it now―at no great d

, the performances had been protracted to anunusual length. It was a dark, cold night,

e of the wind, the walk was not only acomfortless, but most uncertain one. I had fortunately taken theright course, however, and succeeded, after a littl

ind of doze,led me softly in, and placed a chair for me at the bedside. The sickman was lying with his face turned

low cinderfire in a rusty, unfixed grate; and an old three-cornered stainedtable, with some medicine bottles, a broken glass, and a few other domestic articles, was drawn out before it. A little child wassleeping on a temporary bed which had been made for it on thefloor, and the woman sat on a chair by

he sick man, before hewas aware of my presence. In the restless attempts to procuresome easy resting-place for

is wife; "Mr. Hutley, that yo

seemed endeavouring to collecthis thoughts for a few seconds, and then grasping me tightly by

so?" said I, addres

t," she replied. "John,

an, with a shudder, asshe stooped over him.

and many times before. I have starved her and the boy too; andnow I am weak and helpless, Jem, she'll murder me for it; I knowshe w

of it, for an instant, one glance at thewoman's pale face and wasted form would h

l be calmer, if he does not see you." She retired out of the man'ssig

one?" he eag

aid I; "she sha

it drives me mad. All last night, her large, staringeyes and pale face were close to mine; wherever I turned, theyturned; and whenever I started up from

a woman she would have diedlong ago.

have occurred to produce such an impressionon such a man. I could say nothing i

unconsciousness, in which the mind wanders uneasily fromscene to scene, and from place to place, without the control ofreason, but still without being able to divest itself of anindescribable sense of present suffering. Finding from hisincoherent wan

lustre frightful to behold. The lips wereparched, and cracked in many places; the hard, dry skin glowedwith a burning heat; and there was a

gs of adying man. From what I had heard of the medical attendant'sopinion, I knew there was no hope for him: I was sitting by hisdeath-bed. I saw the wasted limbs―which a few hours before

the body lies before youweak and helpless; but when those occupations are of a characterthe most strongly opp

ng, he fancied; he had apart to play that night; it was late, and he must leave homeinstantly. Why did

cutors. A short pause,and he shouted out a few doggerel rhymes―the last he had everlearned. He rose in be

on, and hewas wandering through a tedious maze of low-arched rooms―solow, sometimes, that he must creep upon his hands and knees tomake his way along; it was close and dark, and every way heturned, some obstacle impeded his progress. There were insects,too, hideous crawling things, with eyes that stared upon him, andfilled the very air around, glistening horribly amidst th

nge had come over his face, butconsciousness had returned, for he evidently knew me. The child,who had been long since disturbed by his ravings, rose from itslittle bed, and ran towards its father, screaming with fright―themother hastily caught it in her arms, lest he should injure it in theviolence of his insanity; but, terrified by the alteration of

ck's opinion of the foregoing anecdote. We havelittle doubt that we should have

ed in his hand; andhad just made up his mind to speak―indeed, we have theauthority of Mr. Snodgrass's note-book f

htened the world,if not the Thames, when he was thus interrupted; for he gazedsternly on the wait er's counte

fellows,' added Mr. Winkle, after the waiter hadretired―'officers of the 97th, w

ce restored. The waiterreturned, and

inkle, 'LieutenantTappleton, Mr. Pic

end Mr. Tupman, DoctorPayne―Doctor Slamm

strong emotion wasvisible on the counte

man before,' said the Doc

!' said M

coatedstranger. 'I think I gave that person a very pressing invitation lastnight, which he thought proper to decl

d that gentleman, at the

ed,' replied

e spot,' murmured the ownerof the

he said, addressing Mr. Pickwick, who wasconsiderably mystified by this very unpolite

d Mr. Pickwick, 'he

lub, or I am mistaken?' sai

ot,' responded

your club-button?'

plied the astoni

oulder, as ifimplying some doubt of the accuracy of his recollection. The littledoctor looked wrathful, but

h made that gentleman start as perceptibly as if a pinhad been cunningl

ffirmative, looking very hard

ion,' said the doctor, pointin

an admitte

se gentlemen, whether you choose to give meyour card, and to receive the treatment of a gen

ot allow this matterto go any further without so

orrowing of the coat; expatiatedlargely on its having been done 'after dinner'; wound up with

appleton, who had been eyeing him with great curiosity, saidwit

replied the una

Slammer.―'He acts in the piece that the officersof the 52nd get up at the Roches

aid the dign

your nose, sir, and the nose of every man in this company. Iwould, sir―every man. Payne is my name, sir―Doctor Payne ofthe 43rd. Good-evening, sir.' Having concluded this speech, anduttered the last three words in a loud key, he stalked majesticallyafter his friend, closely followed by Doctor Slammer, who saidnothing, but contented himself by withering the company with alook. Rising rage and extreme bewilderment had swelled the noblebreast of Mr. Pickw

Winkle, Tupman―hemust not peril his dist

o,' said Mr

d the green-coated stranger;'brandy-and-water―jolly old gentleman―lots of pluck―swallowthis―ah!―capital stuff.' Having previously tested the virtues of ab

d done itswork; the amiable countenance of Mr. Pic

rth your notice,'

re not. I amashamed to have been betrayed into this w

edround the table, and harmony once more prevailed. Someli

e that soslight a circumstance can have excited even a passing feeling ofanger in a Pickwickian's breast. With this exce